Pull Me Down (If You Want To)
by PapersPoison
Summary: The first time they kiss sends Amy reeling.


The first time they kiss sends Amy reeling.

Sure, she's kissed boys before. Like last year at her cousin's wedding, when she made out with that awkwardly tall kid with big lips and freakishly blue eyes. Or that super embarrassing time she kissed Ricky Turner in a game of spin the bottle at his 13th birthday party. Amy's kissed boys. She's done it multiple times. She's not super practiced, but she's experienced enough to know that too much tongue is gross, and figuring out where to put your hands can be super awkward. Amy was even sure that she _liked_ kissing boys.

It's not until she's placed her lips to Karma's – instinctively put her hands on soft hips, leaned into a cloud of familiarity, tilted her head and closed her eyes shut tight – that she realizes how wrong she really was.

Those boys were not soft and sweet, not like Karma. They didn't taste like cherry lip-gloss and lemonade and spearmint gum. They didn't make her stomach drop in her gut, or leave her breathless and dizzy. They didn't make her ears burn hot with deep blush or cause her heart to beat erratically in her chest. No, those boys and their rough, overly eager lips were never going to be enough. Amy can't believe it took kissing her best friend to realize it.

Just as soon as the kiss began, it ends, much to Amy's displeasure, and Karma's pulling away.

The space between them suddenly feels like an ocean, and Amy's silently begging Karma to draw her back in, to kiss her again and again and again.

But then Karma's winking at her with an assurance that this kiss was just for show. Amy feels her heart drop in her chest in response. She doesn't know what she expected, but it definitely wasn't _that._

* * *

The second time they kiss, everything changes.

A week has passed since their first, very-public display of affection, and while Karma's pretending like nothing has changed between them, Amy's second-guessing everything.

Small things suddenly mean so much more. Like when Karma smiles at her from across the classroom during English, and Amy feels that familiar rush of warmth flutter through her entire body. Or when Karma rubs her hand across Amy's back as they sit on the quad during lunch. It's a simple gesture – nothing especially romantic about it, but the touch burns Amy with an unprecedented desire. She can't even sit still, simultaneously squirming away from Karma's fingers and relaxing into the comforting feeling of Karma's hand, gentle on her back.

It's all very confusing. Amy secretly wishes there was a guidebook for this kind of thing.

Yet, there's a small part of her, somewhere deep down, that knows exactly what this is. Just because it's hard to form the words in her head, doesn't make the sentiment untrue. She's falling for her best friend – or maybe she already has, and it just took a stupid kiss to realize it. Either way, Amy's scared out of her freaking mind.

They're sitting on a blanket outside, eating lunch just like any other day. Except today, a crowd of students forms around them, and as soon as they begin chanting "kiss, kiss, kiss," Amy knows she's in for a world of trouble.

Karma leans in to kiss her before she even has a chance to second-guess the move. Her lips are just as soft, warm, and sweet as Amy remembers – maybe even more so – and the thought makes her smile widely into the kiss.

She knows she shouldn't like it as much as she does. It's wrong on so many levels, but she can't pull away. They kiss, and everything else disappears. The crowd fades into silence, the confusion and fear surrounding Amy's every thought vanishes, until all that's left is Karma, Karma, Karma. Amy doesn't think she'll ever get enough of her now.

Karma's under the impression that this is all fake, that there are no real feelings here, no lines even available to blur. But Amy's smearing every boundary she's ever marked off in her head. She tells herself that she should take what she can get, even if it's not really enough. These kisses and touches are small gifts, and Amy should receive them gladly because she doesn't know when she'll get another.

Karma pulls away first, just like the last time. Her subsequent, sneaky grin makes Amy's stomach roll into itself. It hurts in a way she definitely never expected, and she's left feeling utterly foolish. She hates that it feels so good, hates that Karma's insincerity won't make a difference in the end.

Karma may be faking it, but Amy definitely isn't.

* * *

The third time they kiss, they're completely alone.

Amy doesn't drink. Now that her and Karma are getting invites to parties left and right, there's a greater presence of alcohol in her daily life, but still, Amy doesn't drink. That doesn't stop Karma from delving in one night, though.

They're driving home in Amy's car, and Karma's a little tipsy from the party. She's rambling on and on about absolute nonsense, and Amy's simply nodding her head and smirking in adoration every time Karma says something particularly ridiculous.

When they get to Amy's house, they sit in the dark for a while and talk and laugh about stupid things. For the first time in the past couple of weeks, Amy feels like she has a best friend again. Lately, she's been so consumed with these new scary feelings and emotions, but now it almost feels like things could go back to normal. Like, if she waits long enough, she'll get over this strange obsession and realize that she was silly for ever wanting Karma in any other way.

But just as the thought passes through her mind, Karma gives her this _look_. It's sultry yet oddly playful, and Amy knows what's coming next.

This time, they're much less chaste. Their lips move with a newfound purpose, and Amy's suddenly confident in a way she isn't in front of an audience.

Her hands land on Karma's waist, and she squeezes at the skin, pulling Karma closer to her until there's barely any space between them. Karma gasps, and Amy silently praises herself for the move. She swipes her tongue across Karma's top lip, and Karma moans into her mouth. Amy's absolutely sure that she will adore every little sound Karma makes from here until eternity.

Before long, they're full on making out. Amy can't seem to get enough, can't seem to satisfy that aching, churning desire in the pit of her stomach. Yet, this kiss feels better than anything she's ever felt. This kiss is theirs and theirs alone, and the thought makes Amy giddy and hopeful.

"You're a really good kisser," Karma mutters to her that night, when they're curled up into each other in bed.

Amy simultaneously feels proud and scared, like Karma's finally beginning to see through her façade. She shrugs her shoulders in response.

"I'm so lucky you're my friend," Karma says as she drifts off to sleep in Amy's arms.

_Friend_, Amy thinks. That rolling in her stomach returns, and she suddenly feels a powerful longing to get away from here, away from Karma. She feels like she's being sucked into a vicious vortex, one that feels too addictive to possibly be good for her. It's unforgiving in its power, unwilling to cut her any slack.

Amy's falling hard, and she's beginning to wonder why that is exactly.

Her whole life, she was so sure she was straight. When she pictured her future, she saw a dark and handsome husband and a couple of tiny children running around that quintessential, perfect house. But now, she's not so sure that that's what she's supposed to have. She's not so sure that's what she even _wants_.

Maybe Amy's not as straight as she thought. That realization scares her more than her newfound feelings for her best friend.

* * *

The fourth time they kiss, Karma figures it out.

They're on Karma's bed, watching Gossip Girl and blasting Bruno Mars. It's a typical Saturday night for them.

Except it's not.

One moment they're gossiping about silly high school drama, and the next moment, Karma's straddling her and pushing Amy's hands into the pillow beneath her head. Karma's mouth is persistent and beautiful. Amy can barely breathe as Karma's tongue enters her mouth. This time, she's the first to moan loudly. It feels too good, too strong.

And when Karma leans further into her, presses her front flush against her own, Amy's eyes roll into the back of her head.

The kiss goes on for long moments, and Amy forgets about everything else. All the complicated thoughts leave her mind until she's just reacting to touch and instinct. Before she knows it, something else is pooling deep in her gut. She's felt it before and recognizes it immediately. She should feel embarrassed that Karma's turning her on, like _really _turning her on, but she just wants more, wants to be as close as physically possible.

Karma rolls her hips, and Amy forces her hands out of Karma's grip so she can clutch the soft hips above her own. When Karma gasps and pulls away to catch her breath, Amy finds something deep in her expression that both puzzles and excites her.

Karma's forehead touches her own, and Amy watches her. With her eyes shut tight, her furrowed brow and heaving chest, Karma's never looked sexier.

"Wow," Karma exhales. It's the same thing she said after their first kiss, but this time, Amy finds another meaning in the expression.

She tries to say words, tries to articulate how very much she agrees, but instead, she pleads with her eyes.

It only takes a second. One moment of pure sincerity, and Amy watches as the light bulb sparks in Karma's mind. She can't take it back now, can't pretend like she didn't just open her heart wide for this beautiful girl.

She blushes red and turns her head away in an attempt to hide her fear and anxiety, but Karma's warm hand is on her cheek in the next moment, pulling her back. They're eyes meet for a second, and Karma smiles brightly, kindly. Amy exhales, still a tiny bit nervous.

Karma doesn't say anything, just leans forward once more and gently places one last kiss to Amy's lips. It's soft and barely there, but it means more than any other before it.

This kiss takes it home. Amy is head over heels in love with her best friend. And by the look on Karma's face, Amy is starting to wonder if she's not the only one.

* * *

The fifth time they kiss, there are no false pretenses. No fake charades, no acts, no pretending, whatsoever.

Karma tells Amy that she's done with Liam. He wasn't what she thought he was.

Amy tries to find an inkling of disappointment in Karma's statement, but all she catches are hints of sparkling hope. Amy doesn't have much experience with relationships, but she's pretty sure that break-ups aren't supposed to make someone happy. That is, unless there's something better waiting on the other side.

Karma's smirking at her from across her bedroom, and Amy doesn't really know how to respond. She swivels nervously in her desk chair; her breathing slowing down until it's almost completely inaudible. Karma walks towards her, and Amy gulps. Her eyes are wide and confident, beautifully terrifying.

When she's close enough to touch, Amy stares up at her and smiles apprehensively. She's not sure what's happening exactly, but she's pretty sure she likes it.

Karma places both hands on the arms of the chair, and leans forward until Amy can feel Karma's sweet breath wash across her face. Amy stares into pretty eyes, and waits patiently for Karma to make the move. She's used to waiting for moments like these, moments where she can take what she wants, even if it's only for a few seconds.

She doesn't expect the words she hears next. Doesn't anticipate Karma's subsequent move. Doesn't even expect how giddy it makes her feel, even though it's the only thing she's wanted for what feels like forever.

Karma leans forward until her mouth is only a hair's-breadth away from Amy's ear. She shivers in anticipation.

"I don't want to fake it anymore," Karma whispers. Amy's eyes bulge in comprehension, and she can't help the wide smile that spreads across her face involuntarily.

In the next moment, Karma's kissing her with more feeling than Amy thinks she deserves. It's just a kiss, but it's full of _I'm sorry_ and _thank you _and _please forgive me. _ Amy finds it amazing that Karma can communicate so much just by placing her lips to her own.

But then again, their kisses have always meant more than words. It's like their own secret language, and Amy's suddenly very glad that she's fluent in it.


End file.
